Carpe Noctem
by scathach124
Summary: Choosing Halloween costumes for a party eventually becomes so much more. (M/M & S/T)
1. Part 1

_Here's what I've created to celebrate Halloween, and i_ s _primarily an S/T & M/M fic_. I _t's really just fun little crap. It started off as just the costume-planning amongst Mary, Matthew, Sybil, Tom, and Edith, but then I decided that maybe I'll take the opportunity to try some ... um ... it's not strict hardcore smut or anything like that; if anything, it's a rather cautious way of writing sex, 'cause I don't have a lot of experience writing smut, for me it's usually implied. That's coming up in a later part._

 _Happy Halloween, and thanks for reading. Of course, I won't mind a bit of advice on the *sexy* parts later._

* * *

 ** _Carpe Noctem_**

Part 1

 _Some random day in October ..._

"So," Tom began, chugging down his tea, "have any of you decided on costumes yet?"

"For Rose's party, you mean?" Mary shook her head. "Haven't given it much thought actually."

"I don't think anyone thinks about these things until the last minute," Matthew pointed out.

Tom turned to Edith. "What about you? Figure out what you're going to be?"

Edith shrugged. "I wasn't even certain I was going anyway."

"I take it you and Sybil have already decided what you're going to be, picked out something that'll knock us dead," Mary said presumptively.

Tom and Sybil glanced nervously at each other. Neither of them had sat down together and talked about it properly – it had simply escaped their minds.

"You're kidding!" Mary gasped. "I'd have thought you two would be planning for this party two months ago, if we had known about it then."

"I know, I know," Sybil sighed. "It's just that … ugh, we've both been so busy lately, me at the hospital and Tom at the newsroom. We really haven't had a chance to sit down and share ideas about costumes."

"Sounds quite unlike you," Edith said.

"Well, it seems the rest of you haven't thought about it any more than we have," Tom retorted. "So I feel a little better about it now."

Sybil set her mug down on the coffee table with a _clank_ and clapped her hands. "Well then, we're all here now, sitting down together with nothing better to do. Why don't we brainstorm ideas for each other's costumes?"

The others murmured in assent. Might as well take the opportunity while it was present.

"Well, where do we start?" Tom wondered. "Rose didn't say if there should be a certain theme or anything, which makes things harder."

"I assume she'd like the couples to be matching," Mary said.

Edith groaned. "Where does that leave me?"

"It's not strictly a couples' thing," Sybil explained. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of single men and women. I bet Rose will try to play matchmaker for some of her friends."

"She'll have to try really hard if she's to do that with me," Edith said sullenly.

"Then we'd better think of a costume that'll catch somebody's eye," Sybil said.

Edith frowned a bit. "I don't want anything too racy. That sort of stuff just makes me sick."

"Oh, don't worry about that – no one in this room is going to be held prisoner in a latex facecloth that barely holds in their breasts," Sybil exclaimed, suddenly becoming rather animated. "It's ridiculous now how many costumes for women and girls are labelled as 'sexy' or 'slutty.' I hate seeing things that aren't supposed to be contaminated with chauvinism: bees, nurses, cleaning supplies—"

"You've seen sexy cleaning supply costumes?" Edith laughed.

Sybil nodded feverishly. "It's absurd how they sexualize such things. And it's so hard to find a decent costume because _everything_ is designed to make you look like you should be on the cover of _Playboy_ —!"

"Are you finished yet, Sybil?" Mary said. "You can have one of your feminist rants when the rest of us go home."

Sybil wordlessly shot her sister the finger in response.

"Alright, that's enough, both of you," Tom said, trying to contain his amusement. "We need to focus. I don't think we should totally rule out being … er, erotic. They can still be fun costumes without being risqué."

"Sure, but I'd prefer not to be dressed in something that is going to result in me freezing to death," Sybil replied. "It's going to be a chilly night, at least according to the papers."

"I suppose that means you won't be dressing up as Jack Dawson from _Titanic_?" Tom joked.

He looked around the room and was met with four very severe glares.

"Clever, Tom," Mary sniffed. "Though Sybil's right: I'll be avoiding anything labelled 'skin-tight' on the package."

"So we've got that out of the way," Sybil said. "But we still haven't come up with any ideas. Come on guys, think!"

There was an awkward silence as everyone sat looking at each other, hoping someone would speak up first.

"Ugh," groaned Sybil. "Just start spitting out ideas. I promise I won't laugh."

"That's a lie and you know it," Edith said.

"Maybe I will, but even so, it's not like any of you are giving me something to laugh about."

Matthew turned to Mary. "Hey, when you girls were little, did you ever … coordinate your costumes? You know, go as similar things?"

"No," Mary answered. "I was never really into that sort of thing."

"She wasn't much interested in dressing up as a kid," Sybil mentioned. "I always wanted to something like that, but Mary put her foot down every time."

She and Mary scowled at each other.

"Well, maybe now's the perfect time to do so," Matthew suggested.

Mary looked shocked. "What, all three of us?"

"Of course," Tom said. "Remember, the party isn't couples-oriented, so all of you could dress up similarly. And then maybe Matthew and I could go as related things."

Mary glowered at Tom. "Oh, no way."

"Why not?" Sybil said. "That might actually be fun." Already she was running through her head the many possibilities the three of them could go as.

Mary slumped back against the couch. "For God's sake, no. It sounds bloody embarrassing."

"That's bull, Mary," Sybil snapped. "Friends do the same thing. It's really no different than you and Matthew dressing up the same way."

"Actually there is a big difference, because it'll be the three of us," Mary said, emphasizing the word us as if it was a curse that shouldn't be spoken aloud.

"Maybe when we figure out a costume idea she'll change her mind," Tom remarked. "C'mon Matthew, let's think: what would these three ladies be perfect as?"

Both men looked at each of the Crawley sisters like judges at a beauty contest. The girls sat completely motionless, though with different facial expressions: Sybil smiling coyly, Edith quite indifferent to the situation, and Mary rolling her eyes. Why had she even agreed to go to Rose's silly little party in the first place? She should have figured that this was bound to happen. Doubtlessly Rose would find it hilarious if her cousins showed up wearing complimentary outfits.

"I'm thinking … okay, what about something like the witches out of _Macbeth_?" Tom said after a few minutes.

Matthew considered with a tilt of his head. "Hmm … that's a good start, what with the trio concept and all, but I think we can do better than decking them out as a bunch of hags."

Mary's upper lip curled. "Really Tom? You had to liken us to hags, of all things?"

"There are worse creatures out there," Tom reminded her.

"Being from the foggy moors of Ireland, I'm sure you'd know," Mary drawled.

Sybil sighed and ignored Mary's jibe. "You know, I like that idea of three witches, the 'weird sisters' and all. Oh, but instead of the witches from _Macbeth_ , what if we were the ones from _Hocus Pocus_?" She grinned, pleased at her brilliant idea.

There was a general cheer of approval from everyone except Mary. "What a good idea," Edith agreed. "Why didn't we think of that before?"

Mary frowned in confusion. "What's _Hocus Pocus_?"

The others stared, gawking at her. Mary's eyes darted back and forth between their horrified faces. "I'm sorry, have I missed something important?"

"Yes!" Sybil blurted out. "Oh my goodness, you don't know what _Hocus Pocus_ is? It's only the best Halloween movie out there! It's about these three sisters – witches, obviously – from Salem and they die in 1700 or something but they come back to life in modern times … _to suck all the lives from the little children_!" she crowed in an imitation of an old witch. Mary recoiled from her clearly-insane sister while the others laughed.

"The best part is, it's technically a kid's film," Matthew added.

That only bewildered Mary more. She asked Edith, "Did you know what it was?"

"Of course," Edith answered, "but the first time I saw it was when Sybil made me watch it with her. It's quite corny, but I like it."

"I feel less inclined to watch it now," Mary muttered.

Edith narrowed her eyes. "If you don't take my word for it, listen to Sybil. _She_ liked it and you have nearly the same taste in movies."

"I can't believe it, though. Have you honestly never seen _Hocus Pocus_?" Sybil asked, sounding appalled.

Mary shook her head, baffled at why that was such a problem. Sybil gasped as if she had been personally offended. "How can you live with yourself?"

"I'm just fine being culturally illiterate, thank you!" snapped Mary.

"But seriously, Mary—!"

"Oi!" Matthew's voice made both of them freeze. "We can settle that matter later, Sybil; I know you and Tom have the DVD someplace. Mary, you calm down."

"I am calm!" Mary barked.

Edith, Sybil, and Tom sniggered. "Has she or hasn't she seen the movie?" Tom whispered to Sybil.

"Can we go back to the costume brainstorm, please? It's why we're all still sitting here, and I'd rather get it over with sooner than later!" Mary grumbled.

They all, grudgingly, put the _Hocus Pocus_ business behind them, though Sybil made a mental note to force Mary to watch it later. It was as good as a crime, never seeing _Hocus Pocus_ or even hearing about it.

"Let's move on," Tom decided. "Though I still feel we could do something along the lines of three witches, or maybe another supernatural creature."

"We should be old-school this year," Sybil concurred. "I don't want to disappear in a crowd of Batman villains or Star Wars characters."

"Shame. I'd like to see you as Harley Quinn," Tom said teasingly.

Edith's tiny ' _ahem_ ' halted any further banter.

"Sure, old-school could work," Matthew mused. "Ghostly wives, or …" His eyes widened as an idea hit him like a brick. "No, wait, I've got it!" he said, grinning excitedly. "The brides of Dracula."

Mary snorted. "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm serious; it fits perfectly with all of you. See, in the original novel, there are two brunette vampires and one blonde. And you three ..." Matthew gestured to them knowingly, and a smile spread across Tom's face as he recognized what Matthew was getting at. The Crawley sisters did resemble the brides, at least in one regard – Mary and Sybil both having dark hair and Edith having strawberry blonde hair. And no one had ever dared to say it to her face, but almost everyone thought Mary's ivory skin was characteristic of a vampire.

"That … that could work," Sybil said, nodding her head. "Yeah, I like that. People would recognize us, but it's not something that a lot of people today dress as. Not that I've seen, anyway. What do you think, Edith?"

Edith shrugged nonchalantly, but a small smile was creeping across her face. "If there's some way you can make me a hauntingly beautiful vamp, by all means try."

"Oh, stop that," Sybil said, giving Edith a light smack on her knee. "We'll make it work for all of us … as long as Mary's on board."

Right now, Mary's eyes were so far up in her head a vein looked ready to pop. Matthew gave her a gentle nudge. "Go on, Mary. The sooner you agree on something the sooner we can stop talking about this."

Mary let out a long, defeatist groan. She muttered something like "good Lord" under her breath.

"Come on, you know you want to do it," Sybil said in a silly tone. "Don't you want to look like an insanely seductive vampire bride for a night?"

"I've never actually given much thought to that notion before now," Mary answered frostily. But she paused then, her brow creasing as if she was really thinking hard about it. Sybil worried her lip and leaned forward, hoping she'd detect what Mary was mulling over.

After a long minute, Mary let out another exasperated groan. "If I agree to do it, will that be the end of this conversation?"

There was an excited shout from the others, and Sybil seemed especially enthusiastic, pumping her fists and bouncing up on the seat of the couch.

"Alright, just shut it!" Mary cried, rubbing her temples.

"But we're not done yet," Sybil pointed out. "We still have to decide what Matthew and Tom will be."

"Well, obviously one of us is going to have to be Dracula," Tom said. "I nominate Matthew."

Matthew chuckled lightly. "I'm flattered, Tom. Though I don't actually look like any cinematic incarnation of him."

"I think people will still recognize you," Tom assured, "what with three lovely brides at your side."

Mary made a sound like an unamused grunt. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer, Matthew said sultrily, "Don't worry, you'll still be my favourite."

"I'll be the type that won't let allow the others to put their hands on you," Mary replied darkly.

"If that's settled, what about you?" Sybil asked Tom. "Is there anyone else you can be that'll go with the rest of us?"

Tom thought briefly. "Jonathan Harker, I suppose. He gets a scene with the brides in the book."

He turned to face Sybil, who was looking at him with tempted eyes. She leaned closer to him, making him shrink against the arm of the couch. "Already getting into character, I see," he observed.

"Of course," she said, winking at him.

Tom blushed, then grinned as he realized what Sybil was implying. Again, Edith's not-so-subtle throat-clearing reminded them they were not alone just yet.

"So, it's decided then?" Edith asked. "Mary, Sybil and I as the vampire brides, Matthew as Dracula, and Tom as Jonathan Harker. Sounds sort of fitting, actually."

"Wonder what that says about me," Matthew said shortly.

"Just so we're clear, no one's going to be seducing Tom but me," Sybil declared, wrapping her arms around Tom yanking him towards her.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about _that_ , Sybil. You can play with Tom all you want and no one's going to try and stop you – because we know it's impossible."

Sybil and Tom glanced at each other, giving each other 'guilty' grins.

"But what are we going to do about the actual costumes?" Edith wondered.

"Rose said that when we decided, she'd contact a friend of hers who can help us out," Sybil explained. "Rose swears by her; apparently she can help make anyone look like the real thing. I'll text her now."

"Leave it to Rose to make Halloween as extravagant as she possibly can, hiring outfitters to create people's costumes for them," Mary remarked.

"It saves on time," Sybil said, reaching for her phone. "And it's just as well, because with my schedule at the hospital I'm not left with a lot of time to search for clothes and things."

Mary sighed. "Well, at least I don't have to inconvenience myself over it." She got up from the couch, taking her empty mug to the tea kettle.

"Mary, what is it going to take for you to get into the spirit of things?" Matthew teased. "Is Sybil going to have to light another pumpkin-scented candle?"

"I might be happier if she didn't have it," Mary returned. "It's revolting; it doesn't even smell like pumpkin."

"Shut up," Sybil shot back. She paused. "You're right, actually. It doesn't smell like autumn at all."

"I can't believe it took you this long to realize it," Edith muttered.

* * *

 _Author rant: Good God Mary, you've never seen Hocus Pocus?! Never even heard about it? I am ashamed of you! Thoroughly ashamed! Shaking my head, Mary, shaking my head ..._

 _Yeah, and I'm actually not sorry about the Titanic comment. I took the opportunity and I seized it._


	2. Part 2

Part 2

 _A few days later …_

It was past nine o'clock when Tom finally walked through the flat door, feeling very much like a zombie. The newsroom had been hectic, and Tom had hardly been able to sit down since his lunch break. He didn't even understand _why_ it had been livelier than a beehive today, but all he cared about now was that he was home, and Sybil would be here with something saved for dinner. They were both used to late nights, her even more than he was actually, and sitting down together for dinner was a rare occassion.

Tom hung up his coat and scarf, then looked around the main area of the flat in confusion. Where was Sybil, anyway? She wasn't on one of the couches, or at the kitchen table.

The bathroom door was open to reveal an empty room. He went into the dark bedroom, but when he turned on the lamp he saw that it was empty too, strangely enough. The bed was not occupied, as he half-expected. Tom checked the hallway and the closet – her jacket, gloves and such were all in their proper places.

 _Did she step out for a moment?_ Tom wondered. _Is she with the neighbours?_ It was highly unlikely, this late at night.

Sighing, thinking that he ought to call her and make sure she was alright, Tom sat down at the foot of bed to take his shoes off. He unlaced one and pried it off, and was in the process of untying the other when he heard the voice.

 _Tom_ …

Tom froze, eyes darting around the bedroom. "Who's there?" he said.

The lamp he had turned on suddenly went out, making him jump at the unexpected darkness.

 _Tom …_

The voice sounded eerily familiar, but it didn't seem – normal. It was almost ethereal, and it made Tom uneasy. At the same time, it was beguiling and bewitching, and Tom felt a chill down his spine as he heard it again.

 _Lay back, Tom ..._

There was the sensation in his brain that told him to do it, even though he didn't know why or even if he should. Yet he did so, cautiously, as if something would jump out in front of him. His back leaned into the duvet, and his head sank into the pillow beneath. _What the hell is going on?_ Here he was lying on his bed, as he had been yearning for since four this afternoon, but he didn't think now was the right time to close his eyes and let sleep take over.

At the foot of the bed, he saw a figure emerge into view, crawling up as if it had been hiding under the bed. Tom raised his head and his eyes widened as he was who the figure really was.

"Sybil?" he gasped.

She didn't look at she normally did, though. Her skin was astonishingly pale, tinged somewhat with grey, but her lips were ruby-red, bright against her pallid face. The area around her eyes were darker than normal, but not sickly-looking. Her brown hair was curled and dressed up with what looked like golden snakes woven between the locks, and an ornament also resembling a serpent sat atop her head. The loose dress she wore was semi-transparent, almost thin enough to see the skin underneath.

"Sybil, you're …" Tom could hardly speak; he was stunned by her mysterious – and alluring – appearance.

Sybil leaned forward, bringing her head down toward his face. Tom could see her piercing eyes, which were now as red as her lips.

"Do you want me, Tom?" she asked sultrily.

Tom lay still underneath her, staring up at her with entranced longing. "Oh my goodness – I mean – yes, please," he stammered, feeling as if he were under a spell.

Sybil smiled, her red lips parting to reveal two very sharp teeth, which sent a shiver of fear through Tom. In his heart he felt the wicked, burning desire to make love that she surely felt as well, but the chilling gaze she gave him reminded him that he was supposed to be the prey. Tonight she had a deliberate carnality, a voluptuousness that he had never seen before. It felt so bizarre, yet so right …

Her head dipped down and she brought her mouth to his, and Tom moaned in response to her hungry kiss. His eyelids closed and his entire body relaxed, putting up no resistance as Sybil's hands ran along his collarbone and down his chest. Her supple fingers felt like spiders dancing across his shirt and his skin tingled, making him shudder in pleasure.

"Oh, Sybil," he murmured.

"Shh," she hushed, her low commanding voice only arousing Tom further. He wanted to succumb to her, let her take over, the thrilling sensation that he belonged to _her_ sweeping through him.

Those tantalizing fingers were now undoing the buttons of his shirt and pulling down his vest, exposing the skin of his chest to the cold air in the bedroom. She slid the shoulders of her dress off, the gossamer fabric falling down to her waist, revealing her small breasts. He wanted desperately to reach up and caress them, to run his tongue around her hard pink nipples, to have her moan at his touch …

Then she was straddling him and her body was grinding against his, slow yet forceful, and Tom gasped and arched his back off the bed. "Dear God, Sybil—!"

His eyes flew open as she uttered a sharp hiss, her lips curling back to expose her sharp white teeth. For a moment Tom lay stunned, but he chuckled as he noticed his mistake. _How silly of me,_ he thought, _saying God's name in the presence of a vampire ..._

"How foolish of you," Sybil whispered, as if she had known what he was thinking. Her red eyes almost seemed to glow. "You've made me awfully angry now."

Her hands clamped down on Tom's shoulders and she resumed her languorous grinding, simply gloating as she pinned him to the bed. "Do you know what happens when I'm angry, my dear Tom?"

Tom shook his head, feeling his fearful anticipation surge through him as she leaned close to his chest. Her dark eyes sent a tremble through his nerves, yet the movement of her body against his sent the most pleasing waves through him.

"I get _hungry_ ," she whispered against his skin.

Her tongue darted out and ran around his nipple, and Tom sputtered out, "Sybil … Sybil, please!"

 _She's not simply getting into character – it's like she_ is _the character_ , he realized.

She flicked her warm tongue around more and Tom could not repress his groans. He pressed his body against her, concentrating only on the small patch of skin where her tongue flicked across. She moved to the other nipple, her ministrations sending his heart racing; it was not just from her softly licking at him, but he also remembered the points of those sharp teeth were probably so close to his tender flesh.

"Mmm," she moaned, her hot breath moving up his throat as she lifted her head. "I knew you'd taste exquisite."

Tom let out a nervous laugh. "Am I really to your liking?"

"Oh yes," Sybil sighed. Her hand moved down his chest and stomach until it was dangerously close to his manhood, and Tom knew if she touched it, even with the lightest of caresses, she send him over the edge within minutes, never mind the fact that he was still wearing his trousers.

Again, as if she had seen into his thoughts, she acted upon what Tom had imagined would happen. He gasped aloud her name, his head writhing against the pillow as he struggled to control himself as her finger rimmed along his length. She smiled coquettishly as he twitched beneath her, completely at his mercy.

"My darling Tom." She stroked him faster, making him breathe harder in response. "So young and strong. I can feel you … so warm now."

Tom grunted, realizing her touch was what was making his blood run hotter; his warmth was probably all the more tempting for her. He couldn't know for sure what he was going to do to her next, but he had a sneaking suspicion of what might happen, and the thought made him quiver ...

Just as his release came, a moment later. It was quick but powerful, forming tremors across every inch of his boy, and he threw his head back as he cried out. Sybil stayed atop of him, rocking against him as his limbs went rigid from the swift intensity of his pleasure. Tom's eyes were shut tight, but he knew she was smiling triumphantly over him; she had finished him in only a few minutes.

Tom relaxed as the heat of his climax faded, going limp, his eyes still closed. His heart was pounding from the excitement, his breath hissing between his lips. _I never knew I could come as fast as that,_ he said to himself. _It was almost … unnatural._

"You seemed to have enjoyed that," Sybil crooned. "I hope I'll enjoy my pleasure as much as you did. After all, I'm still quite … hungry."

Tom's eyes flickered open, and underneath his lashes he saw Sybil throw her head back, arching the pale expanse her neck. He could see her actually licking her lips, her tongue running across her sharp teeth like an animal about to feast. She crouched on her knees, hands holding fast at his upper arms, trapping him to the bed. By sheer instinct Tom began to squirm, but somehow he could not escape from her grasp. Her hold on him was unyielding. _How is this possible? Either I'm more exhausted than I thought, or …_

"Don't try to fight me, my dear Tom," Sybil growled softly. "You can't escape me. You're mine now."

She brought her mouth down to his, her tongue lapping around his lips. Tom groaned in his throat; he wished he could reach up and press his hands to the back of her head, keep her there as long as he could, but she kept him nearly immobile, helpless against her every whim.

She reached up to Tom's jaw with one hand, and with a gentle motion she turned his head to the side. She curled her fingers and stroked his neck, humming to herself as Tom began to pant hard. He felt very much like a small prey about to be devoured by a wolf, and the sense was both repulsive and enthralling. There was nothing to be afraid of, really – Sybil would never dare to harm him – but still he shivered from the vague terror she wanted him to feel.

Then Sybil's head went lower and lower, her scarlet lips skimming down his chin and throat where they fastened. She paused, giving Tom time to register the moisture on her lips, her breath heating his neck, his own heart pounding and sending the blood racing through his veins … he felt himself slipping into a dreamlike state, conscious of his surroundings but unable to bring them to memory later

Her tongue began to churn over the small patch of skin enclosed by her lips, running across a line that Tom understood to be a thick vein. He was so sensitive there, which Sybil was more than aware of, and he sighed, shivering with gratification. Soon his sighs became moans which interlaced with Sybil's contented purrs – pleasure was a feeling they often mutually shared, as if an invisible line connected them as they made love.

Sybil started to suck at the flesh at his throat, though not so forceful that it was painful to bear. Tom could feel, almost indiscernible, the hard points of sharp teeth only just touching his skin. He went motionless, his eyes closing automatically. The feeling of being within a dream intensified, as if a calming wave was lapping over him, enveloping him in a peaceful mist. He waited in listless rapture, his heart beating, beating …

* * *

"So," Sybil asked, "did you like it?"

Tom started back to reality as quick as lightning. Sybil was still in costume, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to Tom.

"Huh? Wha – wait, did I fall asleep?" He sure didn't remember falling asleep, but he felt almost as if he had woken up from a long, refreshing nap. The lamp was back on and filling the room with light, so at least he knew where he was instantly.

"No," Sybil answered. "You were just a little … dazed, that's all." She cocked her head. "You didn't answer my question, though. Did you like it?"

Tom grinned at her. "Did I not give that impression?"

Sybil shrugged. "I just wanted to be sure."

She got up from the bed, straightened out her gauzy dress and twirling around once for Tom. "What do you think?"

Tom sat up from the pillow and stared, thoroughly impressed. With the light on, he could see Sybil's elaborate outfit in full detail. Every piece looked as if it was made for a movie, and not a campy one at that. If he didn't know any better, he would believe Sybil had climbed out of a classical painting. "Whoa … Rose's friend definitely knows a thing or two about Halloween costumes."

"We went out today – Mary, Edith and I – and we spent nearly the whole afternoon at the shop. I think it turned out well in the end. Definitely not the typical 'bride' look as I was afraid it might be," Sybil explained.

"You look more like a queen than a bride," Tom observed. "And the makeup …"

"Rose's friend gave us some tips, and I was playing around with it this evening. That's when I decided we should have a little _fun_ since I figured you'd be coming home late."

"Well, you look very convincing as a vampire," Tom said. "I was starting to think that Matthew might have actually taken a bite out of you."

Sybil smirked. She leaned back towards Tom, giving him one last peck on the lips. "I'm going to change into my pyjamas. I left you something in the fridge to heat up. I bet you're starving."

"I just hope _your_ hunger has been satiated," Tom teased.

"Oh, it has," Sybil said enigmatically as she sashayed to the bathroom.

Tom chuckled lightly, then paused as a thought crossed his mind. "By the way – how did you get the light to go out at the right moment?"

"The plug! I pulled the plug when I was under the bed!" Sybil laughed from the bathroom.

Tom sighed and rubbed his face with dry hands. He must be more tired than he was feeling right now. He would have to think twice about staying at work so long without a reasonable break.

Swinging his legs off the bed and standing up, he massaged one of his shoulders as he trudged to the kitchen. He frowned as he felt an odd twinge at the side of his neck, not unlike the ache when a doctor pulls out the needle of a shot. Just how bad of a hickey did she give him?

* * *

 _A/N: Can you tell that I love Bram Stoker's Dracula? I imagine Sybil's costume to be akin to one of the brides in the 1992 film – the one with the snakes in her hair. That's what the cover image is (my own manip.)_


	3. Part 3

_A/N: Not an extremely smutty chapter – I out-smutted myself with the last one._

* * *

Part 3

 _Before the party_

It was still a long while before Rose's party was to begin, but Mary wanted to give herself ample time to get into costume. She didn't consider herself a vain woman (well, not enough for it be considered a fault), but if she was made to go through all this fuss for a Halloween party, she was going to look the best that she possibly could. If either of her sisters believed they could outdo her as a seductive vampire bride, then they had another thing coming.

 _Good heavens, I'm turning competitive over Halloween costumes, of all things_ , Mary chided herself.

But the costume that Rose's friend had helped her put together was nothing to sneeze at; Mary was actually incredibly impressed by how realistic it looked. She might have thought the costume jewelry to be real had Rose's friend not told her otherwise. Initially she hadn't been sure of her opinion about the translucent gown, but it wasn't too revealing and it certainly fit the theme. Most of her doubts about the whole ordeal of dressing up were turned around when she saw herself in front of the mirror on the closet door, seeming as if she had stepped out of a novel. She felt quite powerful, like she could stare straight into the eyes of somebody and they would physically shrivel on the spot. Seeing her face with all of the dramatic makeup was a bit off-putting even for her, but there would be no mistaking as to what she was supposed to be. The only issue she had was the feeling of the two large – and awfully sharp – fang caps over two of her teeth; _that_ would take some time getting used to.

She turned away from the mirror and nearly jumped out of her skin. "Oh, fu—! Matthew – good God, I've told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

Matthew was leaning casually against the bedroom door jamb. He broke out into a fanged grin. "I'd have thought you'd be bracing yourself for anything jumping out and scaring you today. It's Halloween, after all."

Mary rolled her eyes at him before looking up and down at Matthew's attire. It wasn't the conventional Dracula ensemble made infamous by Bela Lugosi, but it was closer to a genuine Victorian outfit, quite elegant though still rather dark in hue. He could have been taken for a gentleman of a bygone era if he didn't have the fangs or the makeup, which was so effective that it had been the main reason that Mary had startled upon seeing him. He too looked as if he had emerged from the pages of a Gothic story

"Will I suffice?" Matthew asked.

Mary could truthfully say that she was just as impressed with Matthew's costume as she was with her own. "Certainly," she said. "Will I?"

Matthew peered at her with a critiquing eye. "I can't be sure from out here in the hall." He glanced at her playfully. "Will you be so gracious as to invite me in?"

With an equally arch smile, Mary held out her hand for him. "Come in, then."

Matthew immediately stepped over the threshold and took Mary's outstretched hand. "That's better." With a slight growl to his voice he told her, "You look irresistible."

"I'm glad you think so," Mary said. She turned back to the mirror to scrutinize herself again. "It's far better than I initially thought it would be."

"It's good that you're finally getting into the spirit of things," Matthew said.

"As a matter of fact, I don't believe it's that. I'm trying not to let my sisters best me," Mary corrected.

Matthew smirked as he encircled his arms around Mary. "I told you before, you don't need to worry about competing with anyone for my affections because _you're_ my true love."

"Love?" Mary said with a teasing glint in her red eye. "You're a soulless bloodsucking vampire. What do you know about love?"

In a soft whisper, Matthew answered her, "I too can love. You yourself can tell it from the past. Is it not so?"

He dipped his head and pressed his lips against Mary's throat; she drew in a sharp breath. "Matthew …"

Matthew raised his head. "What is it, my darling?"

"Don't make me too untidy," she warned him.

Reaching up behind her, she guided Matthew's head back down to her neck. Her breathing became stilted as she felt his mouth suck gently against her skin, dotting her with small kisses all the way to her shoulders. One of his hands curled around her waist and over her abdomen, and the other snaked around her neck. The placement of his hands only aroused Mary further. He was not making it easy for her to resist pushing him onto the bed and engage in heated lovemaking, an act which would surely result in both of their costumes being mussed up. She sighed, clutching at Matthew's hand over her stomach. She wanted to feel him inside of her so badly – it frustrated her to realize that they would have to wait until they returned home to go all the way, and who knew when Rose's party would end?

Matthew lifted his head, resting his chin against Mary's shoulder. "Imagine the both of us, immortal, able to live together through the centuries to come."

"Hmm," Mary murmured. "As long as we made love each and every night, I suppose I wouldn't mind being a soulless bloodsucker."

"Who says we would be soulless?" Matthew asked.

"Well, I'm sure I would be," Mary said. "After all, don't I always say I don't have a heart?"

"I know that to not be true," Matthew replied.

Mary gazed at the reflection in the mirror, where two pale-faced beings stared back. One was her, dark-haired and draped in a gossamer-like gown, a bewitching siren. The other, standing behind her, an impossibly handsome creature of the night, one whom Mary certainly would not be against spending eternity with.

Matthew lowered his mouth back to Mary's neck, his kisses more insistent and exciting now. Mary didn't know how cross she'd be with him if he accidentally nicked her with one of his fangs, but she realized that at this moment she didn't really care. All that mattered was the feeling of his body against hers, his lips hungrily sucking at the flesh of her throat. Her head fell back to rest against his shoulder and she sank to the floor, pulling him down with her. _God, I really wish he'd do this to me every night_ , she thought.

Twisting her head around, Mary lifted Matthew's head up from her neck kissed him eagerly. She found herself leaning to the side, her back hitting the bedroom carpet unexpectedly, at the same time drawing Matthew down so their kiss was not broken. Matthew's body pressed against hers, his hands tangled in her hair. Mary's eyes closed languorously, as if she was succumbing to a spell.

She felt Matthew's lips part from hers, and that brief moment she wondered how late it was. She didn't want to think about such things as time, but soon they would have to be at Rose's party and she would not suffer being the tardy one.

"We really ought to get going," she said, opening her eyes. "Mustn't keep the others waiting."

Matthew gazed down at her, the alluring red in his eyes sending Mary back into that sensation of falling under a spell. "May I give you one more kiss, my lovely bride?"

"Of course," Mary nodded.

With gentle hands Matthew tilted Mary's head to the side, laying bare the pure-white skin of her neck. He bent over her, his head moving down below the range of her mouth and chin. Mary caught a glimpse of his sharp teeth between his parted lips, and suddenly a shiver of fearful delight coursed through her. As his mouth fastened against her neck his tongue lapped at the skin, and Mary's heart began to pound in anticipation. _Damn him, making me lose control like this._

She could feel them now – the two points of his sharp teeth resting on the expanse of her neck. Suddenly she felt a rush of dizziness, nearly the same when she felt so tired she would fall asleep in a matter of seconds. Every muscle in her body slackened within seconds and her eyes closed as she felt an odd sensation wash over her, like a strange dark mist engulfing her …

* * *

"I suppose we should go now," Matthew said, grasping both of Mary's hands and pulling her up off the bedroom floor.

Mary groaned, staggering forward and pressing a hand to her head. "Wait – hold up."

"Are you alright?" Matthew asked with concern.

"I – I think so," Mary muttered, trying to gauge what exactly had overtaken her body so quickly. "Just a bit lightheaded all of a sudden."

She took a few breaths before straightening up, proving that she wasn't out of sorts. "There. I'm fine. Not sure what came over me just then, but it doesn't matter anymore."

"Well, as long as you're sure you're alright," Matthew said. "You won't seem very threatening to the others if you collapse during the party."

Mary smacked him on the shoulder.

Outside, they heard a car horn blare. "That would be Tom with our ride," Matthew noted. "Shall we?"

"Of course," answered Mary. She and Matthew went out into the hall to grab their coats. Mary mentally assured herself she was fine, although she was having trouble ignoring the weird soreness in her neck which was going to bother her if it didn't fade soon.

"I wonder how poor Tom is going to feel crammed into a car with a pack of vampires," Mary pondered. "You might want to keep an eye on Sybil, see that she doesn't try anything funny while he's driving."

Matthew frowned. "I highly doubt I would be able to keep her in check. Besides, if I know Sybil at all, I suspect she'd get to him beforehand."

"Probably," Mary smirked. "Oh well. You can't tame everyone, I dare say."


End file.
